


The Sun Under Different Skies

by Arialis



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: (Kim Diehl), (Patty Thompson), Depression, F/F, F/M, Liz Tsu and Star are together in the polyam way btw, Multi, just to be clear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arialis/pseuds/Arialis
Summary: In the wake of a break-up, Liz is left unrooted and drifting and very much in need of a new life. If that new life happens to include a cross-country move and two quickly deepening friendships, well… she won’t complain. Friendships that soon start to seem like something more, even as Liz struggles to leave behind the still-smarting hurts weighing on her now.





	The Sun Under Different Skies

**Author's Note:**

> All of the _beautiful and gorgeous_ art in this fic was done by the fantastic Noctivagant (my resbang 2018 partner)!! The original post can be found [here](https://thenoctivagant.tumblr.com/post/181283550153/resbang-2018-the-sun-under-different-skies)! It was awesome working with you, thank you so so much for your care with the fic and the wonderful art!

She wakes up thinking of empty fields and hiding, of dark forests and trees draped in warm shadows. It probably has something to do with the cold half of the bed, of the emptiness in her apartment - still new, still an ache that claws at her lungs every moment of every breath. Liz stares at the ceiling instead, stares until she can convince herself that her eyes are watering from the dryness and nothing else.

This has been the morning routine for a little while now.

Liz rolls over to check her phone, a smile flickering across her face when she sees another text from Tsu.

For just a moment, she forgets about everything else.

 

* * *

 

She's walking down the steps outside her apartment building, making a valiant effort not to think, when Patty calls. Liz considers letting it go to voicemail, because she's not sure if she will ever have the energy for this conversation, but it's Patty, so she picks up anyway.

"What's up, homie?"

"Just enduring the existential burden of being alive," Liz says flatly, barely paying attention as she slips through the throngs on the streets to the subway station.

"Well, at least it's only downhill from here."

Patty’s not-quite-attempt at comfort is enough to make her laugh, somehow, so Liz gives her a real answer. "I'm fine, surprisingly enough." And it's true, she thinks - she only cried through half her morning routine, little enough that it was easy to hide by the time she left the apartment. "Might be going out for drinks with friends later."

"That's good."

"Might still move out to the Australian outbacks to wrestle kangaroos so I never have to think about her again."

There's a pause before Patty answers. "Less good. I don't think you'd stand much of a chance against a kangaroo."

"Alligators? Koalas? Giant demon spiders?"

“I’m pretty sure koalas are endangered, and you're the one who asked me to kill the spiders for you when we were kids."

"Maybe I've conquered my fears."

Patty's hum of disbelief is very telling, and Liz doesn't bother to fight a smile as she makes her way through the station. "Gotta go - train's here."

"Have fun."

"Thanks," she says sarcastically, hanging up a moment later as she boards the train.

By the time she steps out into the morning sunshine to make the short walk to the office, Liz feels like she can breathe again, just for a bit. Her thoughts are empty again for a brief, blissful moment - it leaves her numb, existing somewhere distant in the clouds far above the earth. The world slides past her in a whirlwind, caught in a howling gale and hurtling through her periphery in a blur.

The feeling of the smooth cool wood of her desk under her palms shocks her back into paying attention, even as the ever-bright tornado of her coworkers settles around her.

Liz has just enough time to put her bag down before she’s pulled in to mitigate some supposed disaster with the next issue, made all the more urgent by one deadline or another. Liz's seen enough last minute editing disasters by this point that the interns' frantic worries really only make her roll her eyes. Their innocent panic is endearing, but ultimately exhausting, and Liz ends up numbing herself to it rather than getting caught up in the storm.

When she crashes into her usual chair in the cafeteria across from Kim, the other woman takes one look at her and raises an eyebrow. "You look like a forty-year-old harried mother of five."

"I'm twenty-six."

"Exactly."

Rolling her eyes, Liz begins to eat, waiting for Kim’s exasperation to morph into concern.

"Seriously, you're too burned out for your age." Right on cue. They're only work friends, really - they've gone for drinks outside of work before a couple times, at most, but they’re not close enough for this.

"I'm fine, stop worrying. It's just been a busy morning." Liz can almost believe her own words, if the way she woke up this morning wasn't enough indication that she was lying. She wills Kim to believe her, though, because she's tired of vaguely pitying looks and obscure references to other fish in the sea, and she's fine, this is fine. It’s fine. She’s _fine_. "How've you been?"

Kim narrows her eyes, but lets it go. "Good. Did you hear the rumor?"

Snorting, Liz snarks, "Yeah, I was listening to the office gossip with all that time I have. What's going on now?"

"Apparently the higher ups have finally started approving transfer requests. Oh, and Harv and Kilik are dating now."

She raises an eyebrow, expression dry. "As if everyone and their mother hasn't seen it coming.”

"I know, right? Still, I'm happy for them,” Kim says, taking another bite of her food.

"Same." Liz bites down against the bittersweet taste in her mouth, doesn’t let it show.

"By the way,” Kim continues, oblivious, “they're doing blood donations in the parking lot."

Liz blinks in surprise. "Are you going?"

"No - terrified of needles, unfortunately.” Kim sighs dramatically, throwing herself back into her chair with the dramatique of a princess. “It's a good idea, though."

"You like the idea of your blood in someone else? You a reverse vampire?" Liz teases, smirking lightly.

Rolling her eyes as she finishes her wrap, Kim agrees sarcastically, "Of course.”

As Liz is walking back to her desk, she sees the blood donation truck outside. She wonders absently, idly, if her marrow can brew enough blood to flood her veins anew and regenerate her entire being, and how long it'd take. Wonders if it'd leave her a new person, maybe a little braver, a little less selfless, or maybe just a little less tired, a little less burdened.

 _Tsu would know_ , she thinks. _Tsu knows everything._

Liz thinks of the email she got this morning, of all the detailed tangents in it. Tsu isn’t a particularly talkative person, but she is a thorough one. Over the last few weeks - months, now, Liz realizes with vague surprise - Tsu has never offered pity or platitudes. Even when they'd actually talked about the breakup, Tsu had given only sympathy and understanding.

Either way, Tsu’s attitude has been better than anything offered by the rest of her friends and acquaintances. To someone else, Tsubaki's emails might have felt cold, but there is a uniquely uncloying kindness in the lack of condolences, in the way Tsubaki refuses to treat Liz like she's broken, or about to shatter at the slightest touch.

Liz takes the elevator down to the ground floor and spends the rest of her lunch break out in the parking lot, dark forests and open plains in her mind’s eye as a bag by her side fills with blood.

The sun is bright and warm, but the air heralds autumn. Liz absently thinks that it’s apt, because part of her feels like it's dying too, and she doesn't know if that's good or not yet.

Beside her, Kid taps out emails on his phone with his unburdened arm even as the nurse scolds him. Liz knows that the moment she steps back into the office building, she'll be whisked away into another whirlwind of article deadlines and panicky interns, another wonderfully bright bloom of fresh potential that will eventually die and dry out, a husk rather than a pressed flower. Around them, the world keeps turning, with or without her, and in this heartbeat with blood flowing out of her instead of through her veins, she takes a moment to remind herself that she’ll keep turning too.

The world keeps revolving, spinning on its axis and realigning itself with every tiny change, as if Liz’s world hadn’t unraveled weeks ago, hasn't spun itself into anything new since.

Later, when she's walking towards the building doors, dutifully sipping a box of apple juice and eating her cookie, the bright sunlight at her back throws a long shadow ahead of her, one that vanishes into the darkness cast by the building. Somehow, that inky void seems more inviting than the unreachable brightness behind her. With new blood in her bones, even if it's not in her veins quite yet, she feels just reckless enough to want to surge forward into it.

 

 

It takes another week and a half, just to be safe, and another three talks with Patty, just to be sure. The first was at two in the morning, because the darkness of her apartment is familiar, is safe and inviting and careful with the secrets it holds, even if it's emptier now without another heartbeat besides hers. (It’s easier to pretend that the emptiness isn’t there if there’s no light to illuminate it.) Liz had sat in her pajamas at the tiny table in her kitchen, left the phone face up on the surface with speaker on, just so she could pretend in the back of her mind she was actually face to face with Patty again. They'd talked until Liz had to leave for work; Patty had listened to her describe the sunrise out her window, even as she yawned and insisted it was fine. _What are sisters for, after all?_

Liz almost wishes she could forget the idea entirely, but it ingrains itself in her thoughts so deeply it's impossible to ignore, and Liz decides to request a transfer before she can regret it. Her boss looks at her with badly disguised surprise, but promises to look into it.

"Any preference?"

"Out west," Liz blurts out. This isn’t something she’s talked about with Patty, but somehow it feels right.

Mrs. Albarn’s eyebrows rise, but she nods and Liz ducks out, praying the mix of emotions rolling in her stomach doesn’t show on her face as easily as it probably does.

 

 

In the soft shadows just after midnight, lying in bed and watching light from the street dance across her ceiling, Liz lets herself of think of a soft voice she’s only ever heard over the phone twice, of a personality she’s only come to know through letters.

She thinks of the ways that personality has changed since she's known it, how almost shy and distant it had been, how friendly it is now, because somehow they've become friends enough to joke around and share secrets. Somehow become friends enough that she was one of only three that knew about the request for a transfer, and the only one that knew about it being out west.

 

 

Tsu finds out the same day Liz does that the transfer’s going to work out. Telling her is easy, instinctive - Liz does it without even noticing as she’s writing back her nightly letter. 

Liz wonders in the back of her mind how she’s going to explain this to anyone else without looking like she’s running (wonders how she’s going to explain that to herself, too).

 

 

When she offhandedly mentions looking for an apartment in the city, Liz never expects Tsu to offer to help out.

By the time she realizes how odd it is, Liz has already thanked her a thousand times and agreed, promising to send a list of places she’s considering soon.

 

 

Packing up her life is a strange experience.

Liz has moved a couple times by now, but it never fails to surprise her just how easily everything that makes up a home can be boxed and shelved away and ignored like it never existed. (It’s a reminder of a time when she didn’t _have_ a home to pack up, of when it was just her and Patty and the system, but that doesn’t sting as much as it used to. They turned out alright, in the end.)

She’s already leaving so much of herself behind, already burying so much of this chapter of her life and all it contains in an unmarked grave, that Liz debates leaving most of her stuff too. It would make moving easier, if nothing else.

(There are no words to describe the itch under her skin, now that the transfer is finalized and she’s leaving, to just get up and _go_ , to run run _run_ as fast and far away as she can. Liz doesn’t hate New York, but there are so many memories trapped here that even though she won’t be leaving behind everyone she knows, doesn’t even want to, she can’t wait to be somewhere - _anywhere_ \- else.)

Patty steadies her. She keeps Liz from getting rid of everything she owns while reassuring her that she can live without the accidental mementos she still has of _her_. Liz is looking forward to that too, to living in a place _she’s_ never been, a place that won’t be tainted with memories of what _she_ looked like sitting on Liz’s kitchen counter or napping on her sofa.

Liz does end up donating a lot of stuff and selling the rest. She doesn't mind that part - it always happens during a move anyway. Still, with her life sealed away in cardboard boxes, it’s easier to compartmentalize her mind too. There’s less to bump into and trip over, that way. (Fewer shadows for things to hide in and haunt her from later.)

(Ideally, she might’ve confronted her dark thoughts, but Liz hasn’t lived this long by not figuring out how to shove things out a door with a clear warning not to come back. Metaphorically and literally, sometimes.)

She appreciates it; the new organization of her thoughts is soothing, grounding, in a way - she knows where everything is, and there’s not nearly as much clutter. The haze that has been swallowing her whole over the last couple months begins to clear away, though she’s yet to see if it’s an adrenaline rush or something that’ll last. Liz isn’t sure what she’ll do if it comes back, where she could conceivably hope to run then, but it hasn’t happened yet, so she can try at convincing herself it never will. For now, at least.

 

 

Liz went cliff-jumping once, with friends, back when she was in college. She doesn't remember where or with who, anymore, but she does remember the feeling of her toes hanging over the edge, nothing holding her up but her tenuous balance on the cliffside. She remembers the feeling of not knowing whether this was something _she_ could do - if she was the kind of person who knew how to be this brave.

She remembers taking a running start and leaping, remembers her stomach climbing up her throat and the weightlessness of falling.

Knowing Tsu at all is like standing at the edge, knowing how easy it would be to fall, but not quite willing to take the jump yet. It is the plummeting feeling in her stomach at the sight of the drop ahead, at seeing just how far away the water is, at not-quite-knowing what is at the bottom and fearing it.

Meeting Tsu? That's falling - Liz knows it the second she sees her waiting in the airport, knows she’s already hurtling over the edge and there is no hope left for her anymore.

The water had been cold and clear, a delightful shock to her system despite the chill settling into her skin. Liz had surfaced gasping for air and grinning at the thrill. In the end, she'd jumped more times than anyone else, and only later noticed that she'd stubbed her toe somehow. (Water and adrenaline had numbed the pain.)

She doesn’t know what the bottom of this particular jump will be like or how it’ll feel, but one look at Tsu’s bright, kind smile already makes Liz feel like the risk is worth it.

Tsu gives warm hugs, Liz finds out. They are gentle, but not so delicate that Liz can’t feel their warmth sinking into her bones. Tsu is just a little bit taller than her, but that makes the hugs easier since they aren’t on a direct collision course.

Walking into LA’s searing heat is a shock after the airport’s air conditioning, but Tsu’s presence keeps the fire in Liz’s chest burning even warmer than the sun ever could.

Even with her mind foggy from jetlag and the heat waves ghosting off the tarmac, she thinks to herself that everything is brighter out here, in more ways than one.

 

 

Liz is a fun person when she tries, and she tries. She knows how to fit in, and she gets along with people at her new office. The work is easier, somehow - not that it is different, not that she doesn't have to try or put in effort, but maybe in that _she's_ different, in that it's easier to make herself _do_ things out here. Her job is the same, mostly - just different enough to make it interesting, a shift in focus and directive, a welcome change of pace even if it’s more or less the same thing.

When they talk every Saturday, Patty seems relieved.

For a while, Liz doesn’t think about open plains or dark forests, doesn’t think about where she can go to avoid being found. Where she can go to lose _herself_ , too.

(For a while…)

 

 

Los Angeles bustles, yes, but it’s more spread out than NYC can ever dream of being. It isn’t as crowded, and no matter how tall the buildings grow, there is space for the sunshine to slip through.

There is _room_ here, room to grow and room to breathe.

Liz honestly doesn’t even mind the commute (she ends up buying a used car, because the tales of LA’s terrible public transportation are completely true). The drive is meditative, even when she gets stuck in traffic.

Best of all, nothing reminded Liz of _her_. But it wasn’t just that - one would think that because it was the same country, things would be more or less the same in either city.

They aren’t - there is a different attitude, a different pace. Liz finds herself wrongfooted at every turn, the pulse of her heartbeat just a breath out of sync with everything else in this city.

Somehow, it feels _good_ to know she doesn't know. Liz is on her toes and it leaves her feeling more _alive_ than she has in ages. The desert sprawls out in every direction, outlasting everything they could hope to build on the shifting sands, and the burning sun is relentless and uncompromising. It’s endlessly harsh, brutal and jagged in a way even the cruel winters never were.

It feels good to have to fight again, to have to _work_ to survive and instead of letting herself grow placid in the calm of following patterns she knows better than the beat of her heart.

 

 

When she finds herself settling in, carving out space for herself both at work and at home, Liz wonders if she’ll be okay. The pace of change in her life is stuttering from breakneck speed to a slow stop.

Eventually, the adrenaline rush and its high drain away.

They leave her alone, surrounded in a hall of mirrors with no distractions, no comforts, nothing to stop her from taking a good long look at herself. She doesn’t know if she likes what she sees.

The commute is still calming, but the way so many of her coworkers are utterly self-assured in their own importance prickles at her nerves. LA scorches her skin and smothers her in smog, and its shadows are too shallow, leaving her nowhere to hide, not even at night. Everything is too bright - she feels like she's on an examining room table, a cadaver prepared for autopsy under harsh, clinical light.

Everything is so far away from everything else. Liz finds herself an island at sea, trapped and free all at once. She finds herself lost in the spaces between the lives around her, in the gaps and cracks she’s slipped through her whole life.

Tsu, though… Every time they meet up, every _single_ time Liz sees her, is the same as the first. She is still falling, hurtling towards a something she can’t name.

Liz doesn’t bother to wish for anything, to hope or wonder if Tsu feels the same. She’s been down that road before. She crashed and is still recovering, still learning how to find her broken parts and figure out how to duct-tape them back together into a living human being.

No… Liz won’t break herself again, let alone give someone else an instruction manual on how to do it _and_ make them the weapon.

At least like this, Liz can convince herself she is healing, that she is moving forward and away from _her_.

(Maybe like this, she can pretend she isn’t stagnating again, that she hasn’t run away just to die inside somewhere else anyway, alone and unneeded and completely forgotten.)

(Didn’t Patty tell her once, that a desert is an ideal location to hide a body?)

 

 

Liz snorts ruefully and stares up at her popcorn ceiling, her eyes dry and itchy with sleeplessness. _Some things never change_.

She takes a deep breath, cool air clawing at her lungs.

 _But is it really my fault when she’s just so_ easy _to love?_

 _It is, it is, it is_ , says the darkness, gently mocking. Liz rolls over, burying her face in the other pillow and screamed in frustration, wondering what it would take to make the ache go away.

_What’s it supposed to take to make this heart beat again? At this rate I’ll need a pacemaker before I’m even thirty._

_What am I supposed to do? What’s it going to take? Just what do I have to realize or figure out or change?_

_Why can’t I make this_ stop?

 

* * *

 

Her voice is hoarse when she goes into work the next day, and the bags under her eyes are back.

No one comments on it, too polite and too far from being friends yet. They tiptoe instead, just like they had in NYC.

Liz wonders if all she’s done is dig herself a foreign hole, as if the dirt she lies in makes any difference.

_Guess new blood doesn’t make a new heart or a changed soul._

The world slowly drains back to gray, the colors and contrasts leached out of existence in her exhaustion with herself. She resigns herself to it - to the gray world and the feelings and everything else. She even accepts it, if with a weary (forced) smile.

 

 

Liz and Tsu set up a standing lunch date ( _it’s not a date, stop it, Liz_ ) every other Saturday. Seeing Tsu, seeing her warm smile and fierce, determined eyes, leaves Liz falling ever faster.

She hurtles faster and faster, no matter that she thought she’d _started_ at breakneck speed. Liz wonders what terminal velocity will look like, and how impact will feel.

(She wonders what surviving being let down again would be like, and if it could somehow be even worse than what she’s already living through.)

(Liz isn’t a fool - she knows that even if it's mutual, she’ll need to fix herself first. She can’t or rely on anyone to do it for her, can’t put those burdens on Tsu. She won’t let herself drain Tsu dry of all her kindness and empathy, then leave her to rot as a husk of her former warmth. Tsu deserves better than that.)

(But those were thoughts for three in the morning when she couldn’t sleep, the shadows of her now-familiar new apartment her only witnesses.)

Tsu leaves her falling, but it feels like flying, somehow. Everything is a little easier, a little brighter, with her around.

 _Even when she’s disappointed in me, I’m still waxing poetic as best as I know how_ , Liz muses in dry amusement, forcing herself to meet Tsu’s gaze even as Tsu frowns at her.

“Hey, Liz?”

“Yeah?”

Tsu chews her lip like she’s wondering if she already regrets starting the conversation. Then, that determination comes back, burning in her eyes and taking Liz’s breath away, and Tsu says, “I know you moved out here for a fresh start, but… I don’t know, you don’t really seem any happier?”

Liz leans back in her seat, wondering if she really is that obvious, or if it’s just Tsu who sees right through her.

At the silence, Tsu’s face falls. “I’m sorry, that was rude and forward of me-”

"No, it's fine," Liz says, sighing a moment later as she scrubs a hand over her face. She buries her head in crossed arms, the tip of her nose grazing the table's polished surface, and mumbles, “I wish you were wrong and I was fine, but you’re not, and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever be.”

Her fingers gently brush through Liz’s hair, neatening it around the part. “You will be, I promise.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I know you, and you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You can survive and overcome anything, even this.”

Tsu doesn’t stop carding her fingers through Liz’s hair, not even when Liz lets an embarrassingly loud sniffle slip out.

Wiping at her eyes, Liz sits up. Quietly, she admits, voice cracking, “I just don’t know what the problem even _is_ anymore.”

“Is it the breakup?” Tsu asks gently, but doesn’t look surprised when Liz shakes her head.

“It’s… I’m not really thinking about it anymore? Not as much as I used to.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Liz raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You don’t talk about it as much.”

“Did I ever, really?”

“Yeah - just not blatantly. It was a reading-between-the-lines kind of thing,” she explains, fidgeting a bit under the scrutiny. “Either way, it’s good you’re moving past it.”

Liz shrugs. Tsu's assessment is probably overly optimistic, but it's close enough.

“So, how’s work been?” Tsu asks, sensing Liz’s reluctance to talk about it more.

She lets her head drop back to the table and groans, long and theatrical.

“That bad?”

“It’s destroying what’s left of my soul.”

“You had one?”

Liz glares flatly at Tsu. “Rude.”

Tsu's innocent smile turns cheeky as she takes a sip of her tea. “Don’t get mad at me for speaking the truth.”

Tossing her napkin down in faux annoyance, Liz pretends to call for the waiter, making Tsu laugh.

“Just get a different job.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not, I know that. But if the one you have now is terrible, is it worth putting up with?” Tsu ducks her head, eyes glued to the bottom of her teacup, when Liz won’t meet her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to go do it right now, but maybe it’s something worth considering? You’re just… I want you to be okay, and this probably won’t fix everything, but it might be a start? The way you’re feeling isn’t inevitable, it can get better.”

“Why do you have to be so reasonable?” Liz asks, glancing out the window beside them absently. It's a rare cloudy day, and passersby are uncommon. In their faint reflections, faded and washed out, Tsu looks at Liz with open concern. The look is still there when Liz finally turns back to Tsu. “I’ll think about it.”

Tsu smiles.

Even as they move onto other topics, Liz feels the idea pricking at the back of her mind. It might be a good one, but she doesn’t want to spend her whole life chasing the adrenaline of change to pretend things don’t hurt. It isn’t a permanent solution, and Liz knows it.

 _Still_ , she lets herself think, _it might be a start._

(But that's what she'd thought before she'd moved out here, wasn't it?)

 

 

It’s a long process, with many afternoons on her laptop and sleepless nights (as if she wasn’t already getting enough of those) spent wondering if this is the right decision.

Liz starts applying.

Tsu is endlessly supportive, and far more optimistic than Liz herself can dream of being. Liz just tries to remind herself that it can’t hurt - she doesn’t have to go through with anything, after all.

(She goes through with it.)

 

 

“Hey, Tsu?”

“Yeah?”

Shyly, quietly: “I got a new job.”

Tsu cheers so loudly that Liz yelps and pulls the phone away from her ear, but she doesn't even try to fight her grin. Despite her resolution to remain calm, Liz finds herself getting excited about it anyway - Tsu’s energy is infectious. “I start in a month, and it’s mostly going to be making… not educational, content, exactly? Like, fun facts that kind of teach stuff without being boring?”

“‘Lemme tell you a thing and be funny while doing it?’” Tsu suggests.

“Yeah!”

“That sounds awesome!”

 

 

Liz isn't surprised when she sees her new office (she'd done her research, after all), but she is delighted to see the open bullpen plan. Everyone's desks are squashed next to each other, edge to edge with no real dividers between them, and the walls are exposed brick. They're covered in posters and random paintings and it's all very hectic, but charming.

The team isn't huge, but neither is it so small that Liz can count them easily. She'll get to know them all, eventually.

The desk across from hers is empty - there's no one sitting there, and there's a tell-tale vacantness about it. It's a gap in the bustle of the room and its near-crowdedness. Still, it's anything but bare, looking almost as if a tornado had crashed through it. There are pencils and papers scattered all over the surface, with sticky-notes on the three monitors on it.

"That's Star's," Jackie tells her, noticing Liz's curiosity before she even has to say anything. "He's our resident vlogger and weirdo. I think he's in... Oregon right now? Somewhere up north, anyway. He'll be back eventually."

"Vacation or work trip?" asked Liz absently, nosing through her drawers.

Jackie laughs. "For him? It's more or less the same - his vlogging series is really popular, but he's technically out there to do a series on the different national reserves and their histories." At Liz's raised eyebrow, she adds, amused, "Yes, _really_."

And so it went.

There's no adrenaline, this time, but it's welcome nonetheless.

Liz is allowed- _encouraged_ to choose her own video essay topics. She's constantly forced to be on her toes, constantly learning - she's never had to write for videos before, never had to learn to edit media before, and it's completely different than any article.

It's a climb and challenge, and Liz finds that she loves every minute of it.

 

 

She still loves Tsu. Liz isn't sure there's anything that could change that.

She's okay with it, now, somehow. She’s tired of hating herself for something she can’t control.

Besides, if there’s anyone who deserves love, it’s Tsu - lovely, kind, and brilliant Tsu. Liz can’t regret ( _won’t_ regret) loving anyone this wonderful.

 

 

Star shines so bright that Liz wonders wryly if his parents somehow knew what he’d grow up to be like before naming him.

(She learns later, much later, _years_ later, that his parents weren’t all that interested in him at all.)

Liz likes him immediately, and grows to adore him as a friend almost as quickly. Star brims with adventures and adrenaline, and his smile is one of the kindest things she'll see in any lifetime.

She spends a night marathoning his series out of curiosity, and finds that he’s silly and warm, almost like a kid, but a stickler for safety, too. She wouldn't have predicted his cheerful, earnest warnings, but she's not surprised, either - he's so careful with his influence, so aware of how people can misread him, of course he would insist with utter sincerity and a huge smile that, "Safety's important, kiddos!"

In one of his more recent videos, he's skiing in Oregon. The man clearly doesn’t know what he’s doing, but his enthusiasm is infinitely endearing. “So yeah, I'm not great at skiing, but right after I warm up on this bunny slope I'm going to the top!" Later, at the top, looking more or less like a ball of layers and protective gear, he yells, “Remember to wear safety equipment kids! It can and will save your life!” (It does, pretty obviously, when later in the same video, he body-slams into a tree, "To see what it's like so you don't have to!")

When he goes to the Grand Canyon, he yells for five minutes about rocks, just pointing at them and getting excited. “Here we have some rocks! They’re really cool! You know how they got here? _Water_!” Yet another video opens on a boring shot of a valley. Star’s force of personality is what brings it to life, illuminating it and giving it meaning as he explains the valley’s historical importance, even if he starts out with a goofy, “Here a thing happened!” His official videos are very scattered, with no particular topic or theme, but they’re somehow fascinating anyway.

His vlogs are much more random - more than once, he starts off a video with something along the lines of, “Hey, I just saw this really cool thing on the side of the road so let’s go check it out!” Not all of it is exactly… conventional, but it’s fun nonetheless to watch his excitement, even if she can’t relate. (Liz hasn’t found herself so completely endeared in a very long time.)

Star is charming, and Liz finds herself gravitating into his orbit easily.

 

 

(The bad days don’t entirely go away, but they’re rarer now, and easier to deal with.)

 

 

When Liz gets her own series greenlit, she asks Tsu for help. She’s not sure why - maybe because she knows Tsu's wages are suffering as the museum runs low on funding, or maybe because Liz just _knows_ Tsu would be perfect for it - but she doesn't hesitate to ask.

(Maybe the whole series is just an excuse to spend more time with her, because Liz's heart still beats _I love you I love you I love you_ against the inside of her ribs, hammering out a tattoo that will never fade away, no matter how far apart they might drift someday.)

Their series is about the local things - wildlife, parks, history, culture, anything and everything they can think of. Tsu handles the research, while Liz does the scripting and editing.

They figure out pretty quickly that they can’t do it alone - neither of them have the sheer energy or natural skill yet, or the physical aptitude to carry all the camera equipment themselves all the time. Liz doesn’t hesitate to rope Star into their group, and he doesn’t hesitate to join. He and Tsu take to each other immediately, both so intensely kind in such different ways that Liz isn’t surprised in the least. Tsu has to mother him a bit, but she doesn’t seem to mind, not even when her exasperation is more irritated than fond. She becomes bolder around him, though, a more sarcastic joker, and her sharp wit is bitingly wonderful.

(Liz desperately tries not to be afraid, tries not to worry that they’ll pull each other into one another’s lives so thoroughly that there’ll be no space left for her to stand at their sides.)

(She doesn’t quite succeed, but she doesn’t think it shows, and that’s as much as she can ask for.)

 

 

One of their first videos together establishes their penchant for banter. They're out in the forest filming a piece on some of the local nocturnal species - Liz and Tsu are standing at the crest of a hill together, waiting for Star to come back after he had gone back to the van to get their other night vision camera. As the hairs on the back of Liz's neck start to stand on end, she tenses, anxiously peering at the shadows surrounding them.

When she hears rustling, Liz whips around and peers into the darkness suspiciously. "Did you hear that?"

"Of course I did - what do you think it was? Ghosts?"

"Ghosts aren't real, Tsu." Even though she’s the one who says is, _insists_ on it, Liz’s skin crawls, and she won’t admit it to anyone, but her heart is jack-hammering in her chest and terror is clearing a nest in her lungs.

"A demon?"

" _Tsu!_ "

As the noise gets closer and closer, they both pale. Even as Tsu aims her flashlight into the undergrowth, Liz raises hers, ready to brain someone with it. A heartbeat of silence later, a figure bursts out of the undergrowth, skids to a stop on the hiker's trail, and yelps when Tsu's light shines directly into his eyes. "You're blinding me!"

Liz swears. "You scared us half to death!"

"What were you doing in the forest?" Tsu asks.

"I got lost on the way back to the car and decided to short cut."

"You decided to take a short cut through a dark forest at night, by yourself, in woods that are purportedly haunted or used as sacrificial grounds by maniacs?" Liz levels Star with a flat, skeptical glare.

"Yeah?"

Liz’s voice is hushed and horrified when she speaks. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Star shrugs.

By some miracle, they manage to catch the entire interaction on camera.

 

 

Camping for a couple videos in a row is... an adventure, to say the least. Star is decently well-versed in what it entails, having already gone on several trips for his series, while Liz is blatantly upfront about her complete cluelessness. "I'm a city girl, what did you expect?"

"I grew up in LA," Star replies flatly. "Even I know how to set up a tent."

"Don't say that like it's easy."

Their bickering drags on, but by the time they turn back to actually try their best with it, the tent is already up and Tsu is crouching by the fire pit with a small pile of kindling beside her. At their surprised expressions, she smiles and says simply, "You were taking too long - we can't afford to let it get dark before we have the tent up."

"Where've you been all my life?" asks Star, awed.

"Oklahoma, mostly."

Liz snorts, moving forward to crouch next to Tsu and watch as she begins to light the fire. "Is that where you're from?"

"Yeah."

Star pulls up short. "Wait, really?"

Tsu stares at him, head tilted in confusion. "Yeah?"

"Well, you don't really have that, do you? It's usually Connecticut or New York or Arizona or Texas or something... I'd say coastal states but you don't really hear Wyoming either, do you?" Liz muses, surprised when Star nods along fervently - she hadn’t expected to read him correctly.

"Even people from Oklahoma aren't _from_ Oklahoma."

Tsu twists away for a moment, trying to hide her amused smile, before turning back to them and sighing in resignation. "I guess this means I have to tell you the truth"

"Wait, what now?" Liz asks, bewildered.

Beside her, Star yells victoriously, "I told you - even people from Oklahoma aren't from Oklahoma!"

Nodding, Tsu explains, "Oklahoma is just a euphemism for my home planet. The mothership is calling me. I'll be gone by next Monday."

"Wait, does this mean that we'll have to cancel the show?"

"Why is _that_ your priority?" asks Liz, blinking in surprise at their utter _weirdness_ even as adoring fondness wells in her chest. (It's a feeling that leaves her warmer than even the campfire in front of her, cheesy as it is.)

"Why would you have to cancel it? You two are still on Earth," Tsu replies, still laughing, pleased with how easily Star runs with the joke.

Star falls silent, frowning at her. "I can't even tell if you're joking or not."

"Tsu's brow furrows in thought. "I'm confused," she finally says. Liz reaches out to gently grip her shoulder.

Star sounds lost when he answer. "Of course we can't run the show without you? You're part of the squad."

Tsu's eyes are suspiciously bright as she turns back to the campfire. “Thank you.”

They all lapse into soft silence after that, not quite awkward but... worried. Still, when they all gather together again to eat dinner, the banter and smiles come easily.

Despite all the earlier debate about the tent, they end up sleeping outside around the fire anyway, the night too pleasantly warm and beautiful not to enjoy it.

Liz is slowly beginning to doze off when she hears Star murmur, "The stars are so loud."

"That's just your thoughts running. You think too hard and too much," Tsu answers gently.

She drifts off into sleep listening to their quiet words and rests easier on the cold, hard ground than she has in a while.

 

 

_The view is shaky, blurry, and slightly pixelated in the bad light._

_"So, let me get this straight: you think demons are real, and you're still gonna mess with them?"_

_It takes a second, then Star’s smile blooms bright against the night around them. "Hell yeah, I'm gonna screw with demons."_

_At Tsu’s laughter from just off camera, barely quiet enough to avoid being uncomfortably loud, Star’s gaze flickers from Liz to Tsu for a moment before he glances back._

_"Famous last words," says Tsu, snorting with amusement._

_"If I die, put them on my tombstone."_

_"You're not scared?"_

_"Either ghosts aren't real and I've got nothing to lose, or they are and I become a ghost myself, and then it's on."_

_When he proceeds to make fun of the potential ghosts, probably more to make Tsu laugh than anything else, Liz cuts in to demand, "Why do you insist on insulting them?” Terror makes her voice sharper than she really means it to be._

_"Look, it’s like I said - if they don’t exist, then it’s just some funny bits. If they do, then I get to mess with the living_ and _the dead," Star answers, cheeky and utterly fearless._

_"Are you seriously playing Pascal's Wager with the fate of your immortal soul?"_

_"Why not? Ma didn't raise no coward."_

_Liz gapes at him. “I hate you.”_

_He grins at her, pulling Liz into a hug that she accepts with dramatically fake reluctance. “You know you love me.”_

_Rolling her eyes, Liz turns back to look at Tsu, only to blink with surprise at the utterly blank expression on Tsu’s face. It disappears a second later, her smile overtaking everything else as Tsu makes sure to get a shot of Liz refusing to get hugged but unable to stop it._

 

 

Sitting next to Tsu on a log, Star curled up at their feet in a sleeping bag in front of the campfire, Liz thinks that despite the chilly air and the inherent creepiness of the woods at night, there’s nowhere she’d rather be.

 

 

Liz eventually begins producing a solo series too - mostly just makeup tutorials to start with, but it eventually turns into a weird amalgamation of beauty and math help.

_"Hey! Today, I’m going to be teaching you guys how to apply eyeliner on fleek and find the sum of an infinite series at the same time. Let’s go!"_

Later in that same video, as she’s applying mascara, Liz comments absently, _“You can be smart and beautiful at the same time, you know. Go forth and conquer the world my babes, and look gorgeous while doing it. You don't have to pretend like you can't do math just because you know how to contour your face.”_

(Liz won’t admit it, but when she sees Tsu and Star proudly watching the series and laughing despite themselves at her quips, pride and delight burn in her chest for the rest of the day.)

_"You don't gotta pretend like you don't know any makeup brands just because you like the numbers, though let’s be real, at this point it’s less numbers more squiggly symbols."_

More than once, she makes an ironic unboxing video - first with makeup, but a fan sent her a calculator once, and now her P.O. box is a consistent flood of both.

With the makeup, she is unrepentantly flippant:

_"Hey, look at this trash I got!"_

_"If I wanted garbage I'd go to the dump - I'm sure Star could make a vlog about it, and knowing him it'd be funny and interesting, too.”_

_"Y'all, it's been a literal hot minute and this lipstick is already a goner, what even?"_

Her reactions to the calculator ones had been completely different, though. The first calculator had been a surprise, and she'd been touched despite herself. She found a place to display it after the video, and it was joined by many others - at least until people caught on to her flippancy, and began sending her terrible calculators for fun. _"Thank you all for this! Now we must apply the 'can it handle being stuffed in a pocket for 72 hours' test. Be right back!"_

 

 

_They start the video with a shot of a tangle of ceiling support beams intersecting with a wall. “Hey, Tsu, what’s that?” On screen, Liz turns to look at Star, quizzically raising an eyebrow. Behind the camera, Tsu does the same._

_She pauses, clearly confused, before saying with thinly-veiled amusement, “A beam?”_

_“Yeah, but is it load bearing?”_

_Snorting, Tsu shakes her head off screen. “No, sorry. The beams around it are, though.”_

_Star sighs in disappointment, and Liz begins her explanation of where they are, narrating over the video as Tsu pans around the room they’re in. This time, they’re in a supposedly haunted mansion, and even though the evidence for anything supernatural being here at all is pretty weak, it still gives Liz the shivers. They don’t focus on it, though, only talking about the history of the building and what an architectural marvel it was at the time._

_Liz glances back at the camera. “You look vaguely ill, Tsu.”_

_“Yeah, ‘cause y’all are so inaccurate it hurts my soul to listen.”_

_Liz’s eyebrows rise, and Star snorts with amusement. “Oh?”_

_“Yup.”_

_“Then come over here and set the record straight.”_

_The video blurs as they play hot potato with the camera. Eventually, the three of them emerge on screen, Star holding it selfie-style between the two women._

_“We’re taking selfies with them ghosties and demons,” Tsu comments, an impish smile on her features as she glances across at Liz._

_“Why would even say something like that?”_

_“It’s true!”_

_“Guys, please-”_

_“You’re literally the only guy here, Star.”_

_“Tsu, don’t make me reveal my demon heritage and use my powers to kick your-”_

_“How dare you even imply that you could possible beat me in a fight, you-”_

_The video cuts to a different shot, filmed later: they’re all sitting on the floor now, Liz in the middle. The framing is cut closer, because her arms aren’t as long. “So, what was so terribly inaccurate that it offended you?”_

_Tsu’s eyes light up, and she immediately launches into an explanation, hands flying as she gestures to the worn-down architecture around them and its influences._

Watching the footage, Liz can’t even pretend to deny the blatant fondness in her past self's eyes as she looks at Tsu. She'd known it was happening, even then - had felt the realization in the back of her mind - but had been too caught up in Tsu's _everything_ to care how obvious she was.

Her gaze drifts to the Star on screen, and the tiny smile on his face as he glances between the floor, the camera, and Tsu, listening with rapt attention to her enthusiastic lecture. Apparently, he couldn't hide his warmth any more than Liz could, even if she hadn’t noticed it in the moment.

Her train of thought is cut short by a hand landing on her shoulder gently, startling Liz into a yelp of surprise.

“Easy there, sorry,” said Star, his familiar rumbling chuckle soothing even when he’s laughing at her. “You alright?”

“Yeah, you just surprised me.”

“Wow, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Why are you like this?”

Star smiles innocently and shrugs like the question has nothing to do with him. “Who’s to say?”

“You. You can definitely say.”

“Nah. Anyway, what’d you find?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.

As her gaze flickers between the footage and Star, Liz can’t help but wonder just what he's thinking. _What does he see when he looks at us?_ There is something just unreadable enough in his expression that she’d bet Star isn’t as oblivious as he wants Liz to think he is.

“I don’t know, yet.”

He nods. “Good luck, then. Oh, and Tsu’s been looking for you. She wants to know what place to research next.”

“I swear, that girl’s a workaholic.”

“I think she just wants to do a good job for you,” Star replies, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Besides, she needs time to work on her own project too.”

“Her own project?”

“Yeah, she wants to interview smart people about a bunch of different stuff. Make a thing out of it and whatnot.”

Liz pushes the thoughts to the back of her mind as they keep talking, and even when Star eventually leaves to go back to his own desk, Liz stubbornly refuses to look at them.

Later, in the welcome and uninterrupted silent peace of her apartment, she lets herself muse on it, ruminate on the thoughts and the looks and what they could mean. Liz falls asleep before she can settle on a conclusion, her mind still caught in its infinite circles.

(She’s not sure if she’ll like what she finds out when she does break free, what conclusion she’ll come to about the nature of _them_ and what they could be and if there’s room for her in any _us_ that comes to fruition.)

 

 

They spend so much time together that it’s far more odd than it should be when someone actually has to leave.

"I'm about to take off, see you guys!" says Star, his whisper crackling through Tsu’s phone speakers.

"Have a good flight!"

"You do realize I have no control over this, right?"

"Nonetheless, I send you good and safe vibes,” Tsu answers, smiling to Liz as they sit next to each other.

Liz leans over to speak into the phone. “Then die,” she says, with dry, flat amusement.

"Alright."

“No! Don’t die!” Tsu yelps, glaring at Liz.

Liz sticks out her tongue at her. “Save me a seat when you end up in hell."

He’s just as dry as she is. Liz doesn’t even need to see him to know Star is rolling his eyes. "You've already got one, it's called the throne."

"Love you too, man."

"You're the one who told me to die."

“Still love you, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you.”

Tsu sighs, exasperated and fond. "Why am I friends with you two?”

(It’s only later that Liz realizes that for all her joking sarcasm, her words weren’t a lie.)

(Somehow, she’s okay with that.)

 

 

_“Hey guys, I’m cooking today!” Star yells, grinning brighter than the sun at the camera. He subtly spins the Lazy Susan the camera is on to include Liz and Tsu in the background, wearing sunglasses and fist-bumping solemnly._

_When Star catches sight of the fire extinguisher they’re each holding, his smile turns into a mock-heartbroken pout. “Guys!”_

_“I’m pretty sure you like your apartment better when it’s not burned to the ground, buddy,” Liz replies, sticking her tongue out at him._

_“I’m a little hurt you two have no faith in my cooking but! But! Thanks for backing me up, ladies!” he says, already grinning again. “Safety first!”_

_As he turns to face the other camera on the stove, Star whips his head so fast that the shades on his head slide down to land on his nose._

_They promptly slide off and drop into a pot of already-boiling water._

_Star stares at the pot for a moment. Liz and Tsu struggle not to burst out laughing._

_“At least they’re sterilized now!” he exclaims, beaming even as he rifles through his drawers in search of tongs. “All according to plan!”_

 

 

Liz is in the backseat, squashed against the window. Sprawled beside her, Star naps with his head on her lap while her fingers mindlessly comb through his hair. Various equipment and baggage is stuffed into the shotgun seat, overflow from a trunk too small to hold everything. Tsu drives gently, humming under her breath and avoiding potholes on the desert highway to keep Star from waking.

Liz tunes back in when she realizes Tsu has started singing, just quiet enough that Liz isn't sure when she had started. She keeps her eyes glued on the world flashing past the window, on the endless brown desert and the dusty blue sky, and smiles to herself, pretending she isn't paying attention.

"Hey, brother, I met the prettiest girl the other night. She's got eyes like starlight, and the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. Oh man, if I didn't know better, I'd say I'm in love."

Tsu takes a breath, smiling too - absently, though, as if she doesn't quite realize it. "Hey, sister, I met the prettiest boy the other night. Softest smile this side of the Mississippi, and galaxies in his eyes. Oh man, if I didn't know better, I'd say I'm in love."

Star twitches. When Liz glances at him, his eyes are still closed, but his breathing is a little too fast for him to really be asleep.

She doesn't call him out on it, only grazes her fingers across his arm in a silent sign, knowing that he wants to listen to Tsu as much as she does, knowing that Tsu would never sing otherwise, too shy and self-conscious.

Turning back to the window, Liz thinks wryly that she no longer dreams of dark forests and endless plains. She no longer has to.

_There’s no need to run anymore._

Besides… All the shadowed woods she could ever need are in the universe she can see in Star’s eyes, in the traces of his dimples and the spaces between the galaxies of freckles scattered across his cheeks. Tsu’s tranquility, her smile brighter than any midwestern sun, and her beautiful flowing hair, were as easy to lose herself in as any field.

 

 

They’re shooting videos by the coast when it all comes to a head.

They’d spent the better part of three days exploring old mansions that have since become mausoleums to events long gone, and are now wrapping up filming Star’s passionate explanations about the local sandstone cliffs.

The path down to the base of the cliffs takes a while, because while Liz isn't really scared of heights, she isn't brash like Star, and the steps winding down the cliffside are steep. Still, by the time she reaches the bottom, Star is still at the top of the cliffs.

White sand shifts underneath her feet, seeping in through her shoes, and Liz surrenders to the inevitable and slips off her sandals. Barefoot, she sinks her toes into the soft sand and simply stands there, feeling the grains slide over her skin smoothly. Before her, gently illuminated clouds lit with warm pinks and pastel oranges and soft yellows streak across a darkening blue sky as the sun slides towards the horizon. It’s one of the most beautiful sights Liz has ever seen, and it still pales in comparison to either of her companions. 

Tsu stands alone among the waves, unflinching from the cold as it swirls around her knees. Her gaze is distant, resting somewhere far beyond the edge of all they can see, and sunlight dances among the strands of her loose, long hair.

Looking back up the cliffs, Liz picks out Star standing at the top, taking an impromptu video of the sunset. Sure that he’ll be fine for a moment, she sets out towards the edge of the water, though she walks onto the old dock instead of into the sea. The wood beneath her feet is smooth, yet uneven, warped by water and sanded down from years of wear.

She stops beside Tsu, sitting down at the edge and dangling her feet over the water. The spray nips at her toes, and she flinches, wondering how Tsu can bear to stand out here as if the water isn’t cold enough to numb. "What are you thinking of?"

Tsu’s posture doesn’t change, and her gaze stays pinned somewhere far away. Her voice is distant as she says, "Of all the places out here, this is the most that feels like home."

Liz blinks at her. "I don't follow."

"The view is uninterrupted here," Tsu says, gesturing towards where the sun meets the sea. "It goes on forever. And it's isolated. Reminds me of the plains."

She doesn't quite understand, but she hums in acknowledgement, twisting to look over the horizon, trying to look at it through Tsu's eyes.

It's a stunning view, and maybe even visually similar, if she imagines rolling waves of grass instead of water, but it doesn't feel similar at all.

"Isn't it louder here? There aren't waves out on the plains."

Tsu laughs at her for that, but it isn't judgemental or superior, just amused, and nostalgic. "It sounds the same. The wind's a fierce thing out there, and the grass..." She trails off, taking a shuddering breath Liz can hear even over the noise of the sea. "What matters the most is that they feel the same, like I can just go out forever and never stop, never have to pause and think, never have to face the world again."

Tearing her eyes from the water, Liz turns to look at Tsu, looks at the tears so obvious on her face now. Still, Liz is not gentle when she asks, just quiet, "What are you running from?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." As Tsu wipes her forearm across her eyes, Liz stands up, pulling up her skirt into one hand and taking off her shoes. Tsu doesn't ask what she's doing, just watches with detached curiosity, willing to wait and observe.

Still, she instinctively reaches out to catch Liz when she jumps into the water, laughing when Liz yelps at the cold and steadying her against the shifting sand beneath them.

Leaning into Tsu's side, Liz internally marvels at their height difference once again - barely anything and still so noticeable at the same time - even as she wraps an arm around Tsu's waist. She smiles to herself when Tsu immediately returns the gesture, dropping a warm arm around Liz's shoulders and pulling her in even closer. They list into each other, watching as the world tilts on its axis around them, and reveling in their little oasis.

"Wherever you go, save a space for me so I can catch up, yeah?"

"You say that like I could ever do anything else."

The universe settles, aligning itself to a new reality.

Tsu turns slightly, twisting in Liz's grip to drop a kiss into her hair. "Come on, let's get you back to the shore. You're shivering."

Unable to fight a smile, Liz hides her face in Tsu's shoulder as she hugs her properly. Tsu balances her chin on top of Liz's head, arms circling her shoulders. 

When they pull away, Liz promptly sneezes into the ocean. Tsu laughs so hard she nearly topples into the water when a strong wave suddenly surges underneath them. Pouting, Liz glances back at the outcropping and admits, "I don't think either of us can climb up there without dying, to be honest."

Snorting with amusement, Tsu rolls her eyes fondly and moves towards Liz, picking her up easily and ignoring her shriek of surprise and her protests. "Oh wow, you're way lighter than I thought."

"Is that good?"

"It's gonna make carrying you to shore way easier, if nothing else."

"Don't you dare," Liz scolds, groaning when Tsu doesn't listen, just begins marching towards the beach. Dropping her head against Tsu's chest, Liz can't help but grin anyway at the close contact, at the comforting warmth and the softness of everything in this moment.

Star’s waiting for them, just barely out of reach of the water. He is frowning, but the look in his eyes is more concerned than annoyed or angry. When they come close enough, he surges forward to meet them, fussing and wrapping them in towels and worrying more than Liz had ever thought he could. “You two are going to get sick and _die_ , and then what am I going to do?”

(There’s something in his eyes that Liz doesn’t know how to name, doesn't even know how to ask about.)

Tsu, their saving grace, doesn't ask. Instead, bundled in towels and looking up at them from her seat on the sand, she smiles gently and says, “You don’t have to choose. None of us do.”

Liz blinks at her in surprise. She then turns to Star, and he seems to understand what Tsu means, but holds back anyway, as if disbelieving that anything he hopes for can actually come true.

“What do you mean?” Liz asks, eyes wide.

Tsu sighs, standing up like every move forces the weight on her shoulders further down. She takes one of Liz’s hands, intertwining their fingers; her other hand comes up to cup Star’s cheek. Tracing the pads of her fingers across his cheekbone gently, she says, “We can all be happy together. There’s no reason you or Liz or I have to choose. There’s no reason to be unhappy when there’s nothing stopping us.”

Liz catches on, and in that moment, the realization that everything they want is at their fingertips fills her heart with rushing, irresistible joy. She reaches out for Star’s hand, closing the circle.

His eyes are suspiciously bright, but slowly, cautiously - a bit scared of being thrown out yet again, even now at this last moment - he intertwines his fingers with Liz’s, cups Tsu’s hand over his cheek.

They’re alone on this stretch of coast, and the sunset at their backs is gorgeous, but Liz can’t help but think that her loves shine brighter and more beautiful.


End file.
